t case,
the imitation was by no means so close as to deceive, but a free
reproduction of the notes of some other birds, especially of the oriole,
as a kind of variation in his own song. The catbird is as shy as the
robin is vulgarly familiar. Only when his nest or his fledglings are
approached does he become noisy and almost aggressive. I have known
him to station his young in a thick cornel-bush on the edge of the
raspberry-bed, after the fruit began to ripen, and feed them there for a
week or more. In such cases he shows none of that conscious guilt which
makes the robin contemptible. On the contrary, he will maintain his post
in the thicket, and sharply scold the intruder who ventures to steal
_his_ berries. After all, his claim is only for tithes, while the robin
will bag your entire crop if he get a chance.

Dr. Watts's statement that "birds in their little nests agree," like
too many others intended to form the infant mind, is very far from
being true. On the contrary, the most peaceful relation of the different
species to each other is that of armed neutrality. They are very jealous
of neighbors. A few years ago I was much interested in the housebuilding
of a pair of summer yellow-birds. They had chosen a very pretty site
near the top of a tall white lilac, within easy eye-shot of a chamber
window. A very pleasant thing it was to see their little home growing
with mutual help, to watch their industrious skill interrupted only
by little flirts and snatches of endearment, frugally cut short by the
common-sense of the tiny house-wife. They had brought their work
nearly to an end, and had already begun to line it with fern-down, the
gathering of which demanded more distant journeys and longer absences.
But, alas! the syringa, immemorial manor of the catbirds, was not more
than twenty feet away, and these "giddy neighbors" had, as it appeared,
been all along jealously watchful, though silent, witnesses of what they
deemed an intrusion of squatters. No sooner were the pretty mates fairly
gone for a new load of lining, than

"To their unguarded nest these weasel Scots
Came stealing."(1)

Silently they flew back and forth, each giving a vengeful dab at the
nest in passing. They did not fall-to and deliberately destroy it, for
they might have been caught at their mischief. As it was, whenever
the yellow-birds came back, their enemies were hidden in their own
sight-proof bush. Several times their unconscious vic